Page 1 of The Alpha's Pretend Mate

Prologue - Cassius

The night air hung heavy with the scent of pine and moonlight. Cassius paced the length of his study, his footsteps echoing in the quiet of the Whiteborn estate. The clock on the mantel ticked away, each second a reminder of the responsibilities weighing on his shoulders.

Moonlight spilled through the tall windows, casting long shadows across the room. Cassius ran a hand through his platinum blonde hair, his blue eyes scanning the pile of reports on his desk. The soft glow of the desk lamp illuminated the papers, each one detailing another challenge facing the Pack.

Another night, another stack of problems to solve.

Cassius settled into his chair with a sigh. His father had started giving him more responsibilities lately, but he wasn’t complaining.

He’s just preparing me to take over.

The silence of the house pressed in around him, a stark contrast to the chaos that seemed to follow him everywhere else.

A cry pierced the night, shattering the stillness. Cassius froze, his heightened senses alert. The sound came again, high and plaintive—a baby's wail.

He was on his feet in an instant, moving with the fluid grace of a predator. The cry led him to the front door. His hand hesitated on the knob, uncertainty flickering across his face.

What the hell?

The door swung open. There, nestled in a makeshift basket, lay a tiny bundle. Pink-faced and squalling, a newborn baby girl stared up at him with startling green eyes. Cassius felt the world tilt on its axis.

"What in the—” he breathed, crouching down. The scent hit him then, a mix of milk and innocence, undercut by something familiar. Something that made his wolf stir with recognition.

His hands shook as he lifted the basket, bringing it inside. The baby's cries softened to whimpers, her tiny fists waving in the air. Cassius set the basket on a nearby table, his mind racing.

A folded piece of paper tucked into the blankets caught his eye. With trembling fingers, he pulled it free, unfolding it to reveal a hastily scrawled note.

Cassius,

I'm sorry to do this to you, but I have no other choice. This is our daughter, Aurora. That night we spent together… I never expected this to happen. I thought I could handle it, but I can't. I'm slipping, Cassius. I can feel the madness creeping in. I won't let it take me while I'm holding her.

Please, take care of her. Give her the life I never could. She deserves better than a rogue for a mother.

I'm so sorry.

The words blurred as Cassius read them again and again.

Our daughter.

The realization hit him like a physical blow. He stumbled back, bracing himself against the wall.

How could this happen?

Images of that night flashed through his mind. A chance encounter on the borders of his territory. A moment of weakness. He'd never expected to see Carrie again, let alone…

His gaze fell on Aurora, her cries having subsided to soft coos.

Slipping.

The word echoed in his mind, filling him with dread. He knew what it meant for a rogue wolf. The isolation, the constant struggle to survive—it could drive even the strongest to madness.

Without conscious thought, Cassius found himself moving. He scooped up Aurora, cradling her awkwardly against his chest. Her scent filled his nostrils, and beneath it, he caught the fading trail of her mother.

"Abigail!" he called, his voice rough with emotion. The housekeeper, Abigail Holloway, appeared moments later, her eyes widening at the sight of the baby in his arms.

"Alpha, what—”

"Take her," Cassius said, gently passing Aurora to the startled woman. "Keep her safe. I'll be back soon."

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